A Host of Angels
by Prelude in Indigo
Summary: He's nothing like Glen was in some ways, but in others he still manages to be just enough.


**Uh... yeah...  
>Finally back to the Pandora Hearts fandom. ^^"' Er, so. Been a while since I wrote anything for Pandora Hearts. I want to write about Elliot and Leo, but I just can't. Yeah, don't bother asking why.<strong>

**Oh, if you're wondering, it's PurplePsychoFish here. ^^ Certain events happened, which forced me to change my name... -.-''' Trust me, no one wants to know... I'm really sorry; I know it makes it harder for people to find me**

**LottiexLeo. Crap. I think I just wrote it. I really, really think I just wrote it. =_= ...It's meant to be pairingless, if you're wondering. It should be mostly canon things; I hate making assumptions, so I didn't add anything that could have possibly deviated from the current Pandora Hearts storyline.  
>Anyway... We've got minor LottieGlen, EXTREMELY minor LottieLeo, and GlenLacie. So.<br>If you're wondering, I don't support LottieLeo. I definitely don't. o_o It just happened.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Every time she falls asleep, Lottie remembers that day.<p>

She remembers Glen-with-Lacie and his kindness, and his somehow beautiful loneliness. He'd talked to them, his family, and he'd played music for Lily, and he'd been so happy that Lottie didn't mind that he was in love with Lacie. Those three had always been together- Jack and Lacie and Glen, and she remembered thinking that it was like they were off in some world of their own, some beautiful world of music that she would never reach.

Somehow, Lottie could never bring herself to really hate Lacie. Lacie Baskerville hadn't been particularly kind or sweet and in fact she'd been rather outspoken and blunt, but there was this honesty to her every word and move that drew people in. Despite her lack of tact, to hate Lacie would have been unfair to her ideals.

And Lottie thinks that she'll never be able to hate her, because she'd made Glen more beautiful than he was before.

If Glen was happy then Lottie could swallow her own desperate wishes; if Glen was happy, then she _would be happy too_. Lottie watched him sing his way through years with the fleeting grace of a songbird, his smiles rare but real, and she was happy.

Until the songbird died, and the deafening silence came crashing in.

That was all there was. There was with-Lacie and there was after-Lacie, and she remembers that too.

Lottie remembers Lacie and what she did to Glen.

* * *

><p><strong>i want you to go out and kill kill kill everyone kill everyone in this-<strong>

* * *

><p>He's nothing like Glen was.<p>

Lottie's spent the past five years searching relentlessly for the one person she will always love- the person who _is_ the soul of the Baskervilles. She's been searching for the man she loves as well. Glen Baskerville, to her, had been and would always be, something unattainable. She'd loved him so much- loved him blindly, right up until the end. Lottie had been the one person who would always be by his side.

And so she searched-

-and searched and searched and searched-

-because she loved him.

She had weathered through hatred where once there had been love and fear where once there had been security, all for Glen Baskerville's new body and soul. And finally Lottie finds him again, because she must, because love is the force that can move the stars and the sun. Just as Glen had torn apart the fabric of the world for his love, Lottie will move the earth for hers.

He's not Glen.

Leo is not Glen.

It's a moment of intense disappointment for her, Lottie thinks in a somewhat detached way, when the despicable Vincent Nightray displays the boy. She doesn't feel anything upon seeing him. There's no spark. No flash of recognition- no _this is Glen, this is my master._

He's small and frail and somehow dreadfully breakable, she thinks.

Leo looks as if he might drown in the blood red cloaks that are now his to wear and he has soft dark hair that tumbles down around his shoulders and into his eyes, and it's the same color as Glen's was. His eyes are huge and dark and some sort of lovely violet shade just like Glen's, _but he is not Glen_. He may look like Glen and he may carry Glen's soul, but he is not the man Lottie loved.

There's this vague sense of loss.

Lottie had spent the last five years of her life; almost a quarter of her twenty-two years of sanity but only scraping the surface of ninety-six years in Abyss, searching for Glen Baskerville. She had felt like finding Glen would make it all right, like finding Glen would fix the broken world and her broken memories and her broken mind and her broken heart. It does not.

She does not believe it, she does not want to believe that Leo is Glen, but she has to.

Her heart knows that Glen is before her, trapped inside this fragile body, even as her mind rebels, and Lottie Baskerville bows to someone she cannot follow as she should.

* * *

><p><strong>you were always so beautiful darling lottie i knew you would always be by my side so wont you help me i need your help i need you to go and i need you to kill-<strong>

* * *

><p>There is just one memory that remains fresh in her mind through murky years in the Abyss and Lottie will never <em>ever ever ever<em> let it go, because it's Glen in one of those rare moments when the songbird deems it pleasant to come back to life. Lacie was gone, she could remember that, but Glen smiled at her kindly and gently in a way that makes Lottie feel like she is as special and beautiful as Lacie whenever she remembers.

"Lottie, dear," he said.

She doesn't remember what she said in response to this because her heart was thumping in her ears and she probably just blurted out some automatic response, but Glen laughed at her answer (whatever it was) and stroked the piano.

Glen had beautiful long, slender, and pale fingers and hands. They didn't have any of the calluses on them that the other men she knew did, but there's one rough spot that Lottie knows is there, although she can't see it in her memory. Glen's hands were perfect, but for the webbed skin between his index finger and his thumb.

Lottie doesn't like to remember that- it's a testimonial to darker days.

That day was beautiful. The sun was shining brightly through the window and hit Glen just right so that his already fair skin was very nearly white and his eyes were a silvery lavender color. (Every time she remembers, Glen becomes more and more like an angel.) He had shed his heavy black cloak and he smiled again.

Those lovely pale fingers pressed into the ivory keys of the piano, and a chord resounded through the small room, setting off a warm feeling in Lottie's chest. The chord didn't sound like the chords Lily's clumsy fingers produced- those were harsh, wrong sounding. This one was as clear and beautiful as the sound of a bell.

She was silent. Lottie still can't remember why, so she's left to base it off her current feelings of reverence and the feeling that- maybe there was nothing to say.

"Does that sound nice, Lottie?" he asked her, not meeting her eyes.

And then she surprises herself by stuttering, "Y-Yes, Master Glen, it's beautiful. Somehow, my chest feels warm."

Glen moved to close the piano lid, then apparently thought better of it, as he glanced up at the sunlight that was warming the keys and the baseboard. His eyes turned to Lottie. "Well then. I'm glad that you liked it."

"Master Glen-"

"Lottie, did you know that sunlight can permanently damage a piano?"

Lottie stopped, tilting her head to the side, and observed Glen's impassive face. She remembers wondering why he's told her this fact; if it's somehow relevant in a way she's not grasping, but Lottie chose not to dwell on it. "I didn't know that, Master Glen."

There was another smile, one that's sincere and just breathtakingly real. Lottie's heart beat faster and she knew somehow- she knew- that the songbird had come back to life.

"It does. It makes the strings swell if the piano's been painted black, and then all the notes are too deep. You can't rely on what the keys tell you anymore." His fingers brushed those keys, and he paused. "Charlotte, I need your help."

She was quiet, the sound of her heart furious in her ears.

"Charlotte?" Glen turned to her, and smiled warmly.

Lottie had been both apprehensive and enraptured by this smile, and by this request. It didn't ring right with her then; like a discordant note struck on the piano, and left her feeling not warm or real, but cold and hollow. But Glen was Glen, always, and she was eighteen and she was in love, and Lottie remembers saying in a breathless voice; "Anything for you, Master Glen..."

He glanced out the window, and Lottie could tell she had pleased him somehow, and the thought made her hollowed out chest feel full again.

"You're such a good girl, Charlotte. I should have known you would always be by my side." Glen observed her, lavender eyes cool. "Even if everyone were to leave me, you wouldn't, would you? Dear Lottie..."

"Of course not!"

"I knew I could trust you."

* * *

><p><strong>i need you to go and i need you kill i need you to kill them all KILL EVERYONE I NEED YOU TO DESTROY YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU ARE NOTHING LOTTIE YOU ARE NOTHING-<strong>

* * *

><p>He's too kind.<p>

Leo is too kind to them, his servants and his family, and he's too kind to Vincent and Echo and those who are not Baskervilles as well. Glen had never been that kind; he was always closed off somehow; somewhere too far away for any of them to reach him. But Leo chatters politely to Doug even though he'll never answer and he plays with Lily and he says that he regrets never having been able to meet Fang. (Although he has, he once pointed a gun at his head.)

So she watches.

Lottie has no interest in speaking to this boy, and so she doesn't. She doesn't want to hear his voice, meant to be some replacement for Glen's, and she doesn't want to see what Vincent and Lily and Doug all say; that he is like Glen. He is not.

This fragile boy can not be their songbird, the one they've been searching for for so long. Leo is a strange delicate creature that has come into their lives; something that is wonderful yet fleeting in its beauty; but even so, he's only a dreadful imitation of what they once had.

Glen was cold and aloof, condescending and gentle at the same time, and Leo speaks to the Baskervilles as if they are equals.

He's too kind and he's too honest and he's too gentle and cheerful and happy and he's just too much. He doesn't have enough authority or decision-making skills or wisdom or power. He's too much and he's too little, and Lottie can tell that Glen would never have dared to act like he does. The boy has no idea how to even keep up a pretense of leadership and it _infuriates_ her.

And then there is his confusing insistence on being kind to even to even the most worthless to scum; to people like _Echo_, who doesn't even count as a person. She's nothing more than a reflection of a girl, what's left after what's real is dead.

Lottie feels rage bubbling in her stomach, making her feel nauseous, she feels white-hot lead filling her veins, whenever he sees this person who should be Glen caring for Echo. Echo is his favorite and even she can tell. And that should have been her; she had been Glen's most trusted, his best servant, and she's been replaced by Vincent Nightray (such _scum_) and a girl who isn't even _real_.

"Why?" she blurts, when she sees him cleaning a slice on Echo's arm that they both know is from a pair of scissors. "Why do you care for that thing?"

Echo doesn't say anything; neither of them do. Her head is bowed as if in shame and her storm-cloud gray eyes are fixed on some point that neither she nor Leo can see. She knows- oh yes, she _knows_- that she is nothing.

Leo's face is turned downwards too, and mostly obscured by messy hair, but Lottie can tell that underneath his long dark lashes he is looking up at Echo. His hands are slim and long-fingered, and he touches her arms and sits back on his heels. He doesn't say anything.

Lottie's face burns red in shame (how dare he ignore her?) and she's just about ready to stomp off in a great fit, when his voice stops her.

It's a nice voice, certainly, soft and not too high and not too low, but Glen's voice had been much deeper.

"You're Charlotte, aren't you?"

"Yes!" she cries, hating the way her voice comes out in bursts and sounds so shrill. Lottie is still red, but this time in indignation, and she draws herself taller.

Leo takes his hands off of Echo's arms, and folds them in his lap, before finally turning to face Lottie. He has porcelain white skin and silvery-lavender eyes, that are cold and somehow packed full of emotion at the same time.

He stares up at her while she looks down.

It's a long moment later when Leo's eyes leave hers and he chuckles under his breath. "I see."

Lottie's silent.

"To answer your question, Charlotte, Echo… isn't a _thing_."

"She's not a _person_," she responded, voice scathing.

Leo looks a bit affronted at this. "But of course she is."

Charlotte's face flames red and she really does turn away in a huff, leaving Leo to continue to tend to Echo's once-again-bloody arm. He's smiling and he's kind and _ooh_, Lottie just _hates_ it. She would hate him too, but she can't, because Glen lives inside of him.

It feels like all her choices are being taken away from her, like she can't even choose who to like and to not like. She can't choose to hate Leo even though she _wants_ to because that would be akin to hating Glen and she could never do that. And Lottie can't hate Lacie either, although Lacie is the one who drove Glen to _insanity_, because Lacie is Lacie and Lottie would even _like_ her if Glen hadn't _loved_ her.

And oh, the whole thing upsets her. Leo is _not worthy_ to carry Glen's soul. Glen wouldn't have looked at a reflection and seen a person; he would have seen that there was nothing behind it. Glen would have been cruel, and Leo's kindness upsets her.

And the only person she can really hate is _herself_, because Lottie finds herself wishing that maybe Glen would have looked at _her_ and seen just a bit more than a pretty face.

* * *

><p><strong>lottie dear youd never doubt me right youll never lose your faith in so when i tell you to go and kill them all youll kill them all because you love me lottie youll never doubt me and youll never betray me-<strong>

* * *

><p>When Lacie died, so did the songbird.<p>

Lottie remembers Lacie's death as well; but she doesn't treasure it like she does some of her memories. She wishes that particular memory would fade away, would disappear. But it's that one memory she finds so hard to forget.

She doesn't remember (or maybe she never knew) exactly how Lacie died; all she knows is that Lacie had been sacrificed to Abyss. Lottie wasn't overjoyed, as one might expect- she wasn't a _monster_, she would never wish _death_ on Lacie, and anyway, she would never hurt Glen.

What Lottie remembers is that single expression of anguish on Glen's face, the look of a man whose world had just come apart in pieces.

He looked so lost, so disbelieving, so tortured, and he covered his wild eyes with his shaking hands and he stumbled backwards and hit the wall of the room. Jack advanced towards him and he held out his hand, thinking only of his best friend even then, and Lottie knew that the two of them had forgotten her. But Glen didn't let Jack touch him, he shoved him away, and Lottie remembers being so terrified that the world around her was spinning, because this was Glen and it was also not.

The sight of her master- her calm, stoic, lord, the one who would always be there for them- breaking down was something inherently wrong. Lottie stumbled backwards and pressed her back against the door, unable to tear her gaze from the two friends. Jack cried, but the only thing Glen could do was _stare_.

It felt like she was intruding on some deeply private moment. Lottie left.

She remembers praying that he would be better somehow, like he could recover. Lottie hoped against all evidence that Glen would be okay, but he wasn't. He locked himself in his room and he refused to come out and all that they could hear was beautiful music.

There is a legend about a silent swan that sings just once, right before it is going to die. Lottie could tell that this song was Glen's farewell song- the final piece from the songbird, and she walked along the halls carrying the music in her heart.

She remembers that she had some sort of feeling that this was it; that she really had lost Glen that time. They had all lost him and they hadn't lost him to some girl and they hadn't lost him to a best friend who was infinitely lower and more idiotic than they. Somehow she had a paralyzing fear that this last song was not a lament for Lacie but a lament for himself.

Her fears were assuaged when Glen emerged from his room and went to the garden, where Jack was waiting for him.

Lottie's knowledge ended there, with Lacie's sacrifice, and the songbird's death.

* * *

><p><strong>they all betrayed me they killed her lottie im sorry i never loved you but wont you help me now they all must die and we all must die for lacie to be reborn-<strong>

* * *

><p>"Glen told me about you."<p>

She's standing with her back to the black rose garden, clinging to the fence that separates the Nightray garden from the rest of the world, and she hadn't heard Leo walking up behind her. Lottie doesn't answer at once; rage is pounding inside her head and her hands clench tighter against the plain white picket fence. (How dare he use Glen's name?)

"Oh, he did?"

She will _never_ accept that this is Glen, that Leo-

"He said," Leo says, in a voice so kind Lottie thinks she would be sick if she had to look at him, "that you were always his most devoted follower."

"Of course I was," she snaps. "And I still am."

The silence that follows is tense, almost unbearable for Lottie. She has to resist the temptation to yell; to shake Leo and say '_Give me Glen back, give me him!_' But she knows it won't accomplish anything, so she settles for squeezing the edge of the fence until her knuckles are white.

"I was warned." Leo comes closer, rests his forearms on the fence. "That you wouldn't accept me."

Lottie's face heats up. She can't bear the thought of being so predictable. "He knows me well, then."

Leo's quiet. Lottie feels like a child, her mind screaming _give it! give it!_ She can't help but look over at Leo for the first time. He's not looking at her with anything like pity, which is a relief. He simply stares out over the fence, a peaceful expression on his face.

"Well? Say something."

"Everyone thinks that I'm Glen Baskerville, except for you," Leo confesses. "You're right. I'm not."

"I know that," Lottie responds. Her resolve softens- it's hard to hate him still. Not only because he carries Glen, but because he knows that he's merely a vessel. "Glen could never reincarnate as someone like you."

He lets the insult slip past and touches his hand to his chest. "But… I am a reincarnation. I've got all his memories. But I'm still Leo, you know. Not Glen. He's somewhere inside here- he's his own person too, you know…"

Lottie's silent; she doesn't know what to say.

"I wish I could hate him."

* * *

><p><strong>i dont care if you destroy yourself go ahead ill use you and ill use your pain this is your only choice so go and kill them all…<strong>

* * *

><p>Every night, she remembers.<p>

"_What?"_

Glen had looked down at her, kneeling on the floor in subservience, his eyes wild with something that was pain, and he'd placed his forehead in his hand. Her lord covered his eyes as best as he could and said; "I said, I need you to go out and kill all the people of this city!"

"B-but, Master Glen…"

"_Did you not hear me?"_

Lottie's heart had pounded in her ears, Glen's icy cold voice carving out her insides. She'd dared to look up at Glen Baskerville, and didn't look up again. She'd thought that after Lacie he would never make that tortured expression ever again; that maybe (just maybe) he would remain Glen, but he wasn't.

But she had to try, anyway. "Master Glen, surely… you must be j-joking…"

"I am not _jokin_g, Charlotte," he hissed. "_Go._"

And then came rage, filling up Lottie's chest. How could he ask them to do that- to kill their friends, the innocent people who'd merely been living their lives in peace? There were children in this city who'd never done a thing to hurt anyone, there was Jack- "What if we find Jack?" she'd tried to reason. "W-Would you have us kill him?"

"Kill them _all, _Charlotte." He fixed her with an icy stare, eyes full of anger. "Every last woman and child in this city, every corrupt noble, every foolish servant…"

In the past, Lottie had been afraid that her master was turning into something that she wouldn't be able to follow, but then she _knew_. She knew that this was something that Glen couldn't recover from, that Lacie's death had struck him harder than any of them could foretell. And in recompense, he intended to sacrifice the entire city of Sablier and all the innocent people inside of it to the abyss that had stolen his lover.

But she loved Glen and because she loved him, she would follow him and she would trust him.

"_I need you to kill them, Lottie."_

And then Lottie wakes up and thinks that there's only one person she's free to hate- only one person that she really _does _hate. He's the one person that Lottie never would.

* * *

><p><strong>you failed lottie youve failed me i died because you followed me in my delusions i killed them because you let me.<strong>

* * *

><p>So Lottie watches while Leo Baskerville attempts to lead the grand family of the Abyss, not as a master but rather as a friend. He's someone that they can all depend on and she finds it completely ridiculous.<p>

He's gentle- too gentle. His touches and words are feather-soft and he himself is so soft and fragile it's like he will blow away in the first hard wind. But Lottie sees that his gentleness is what brings her brothers and her sisters and her family to love him, and she can't blame him for it. He plays music for Lily, graceful and delicate while he plays, and he's not happy, but he doesn't force his unhappiness on them.

But more than that, Lottie feels an odd kinship with the boy who's meant to be her master.

She can't accept him; she'll never be able to do that- she will _never ever_ accept him as the Lord Baskerville and she'll never stop searching for her true lord. But Lottie feels some pleasure in knowing that they both hate and love Glen in impossible ways, that both their lives have been ruined by this man.

Leo's kinder than Glen was, though, and his hands on the piano are long and thin.

He's not Glen but he's still enough.

* * *

><p><strong>URGHHHHH! Why-why-why-why-why do all my endings turn out like crap! D:[ I can write fine until I get to the peak of a story, but then- CRAPCRAPCRAP! Hmph.<strong>

**So, before you start going like 'OMIGOSHHHHH you've got such terrible GRAMMARRRR,' I'm perfectly aware that the tense is confusing! It's meant to be confusing, since half of the story is in Lottie's memories!**

**Yeah, so.  
>...<strong>

**About the sunlight damaging pianos, it's actually true, particularly for grand or baby grand pianos. If the sunlight falls on the soundboard, then it heats up. The strings of the piano heats up too, because they're connected. The strings are wires of different length and thickness. Each different kind of wire plays a different note. When metal gets heated, it expands, so the thickness and length of each wire can change. If this happens, the entire piano's thrown out of tune. So don't put your pianos in a sunny spot!  
>Erhem. Yeah. Enough of my random tidbits of knowledge now. :)<strong>

**Review?  
>Review for the sake of Leo's SUPER-AWESOMELY-PRETTIFUL eyes! :D REVIEW!~<strong>


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